


A Mark in the Stars

by Elywyngirlie



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bring Ben Home, F/M, Fix It Fic, I don't think the Force works this way, Mortis - Freeform, Reliance on SW Legends, TRoS Spoilers, Tam Lin - Freeform, Tatooine, The Force, but its gonna anyways
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:21:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21896575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elywyngirlie/pseuds/Elywyngirlie
Summary: TROS SPOILERS IN SUMMARY****Rey knew how to wait. How to scratch marks to count down the days. Days that she tried to rebuild her life, where Ben Solo haunted her. Until he grew real enough, atoms pulled together by the Force. And by the Force she was never going to let him leave her again. No matter the cost.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 24
Kudos: 88





	1. Chapter 1

_“You take my heart and hold it together as we fall apart_

_Maybe together we can make a mark in the stars we embark_

_And keep us together as the lights go dark”_

_Chvrches, Death Stranding_

  
  


She spent her days drawing lines on the side of an AT-AT. The dry mud walls of the buildings were not much different, flaking off as she carved the first line. The next day she studied moisture vaporators. She understood water was hard to come by and she had always believed in being prepared. Another line on the wall. 

The Jawas came the next week. BB8 beeped along at her, translating their sounds into droid beeps that Rey could understand. She traded with them. The evaporators were repaired. Water was collected. She had a way forward. She watched the suns set and she remembered the way his hand felt on hers. Her chin wobbled and she blinked back the stinging in her eyes.

She remembered that water should not be wasted. 

She drew another line. She cleaned out the buildings. She made acquaintances with the locals. Her side was a sharp gaping wound and she found her hand often straying to it. She drew another line. The kitchen was cleaned out. BB8 trilled mournfully at her. Another line. The shower began to work, groaning loudly. Another line. 

As evening fell, she studied the Jedi texts. Her hand rested on her side. She felt the edges of him coalesce around her. Her fingers traced her lips. She closed her eyes and her shoulders shook and she sliced the Force cleanly away from her. 

She was alone in her skin and she wept. 

What a waste. 

* * *

Rey felt consciousness settle around her, hazy and muffled, and she rolled over into something hard. She frowned and rubbed her eyes, hard grit digging, leaving her vulnerable. She blinked them open blearily and gasped, sitting up with a speed so hard that she was sure she broke the sound barrier. 

“Ben?” she breathed, her voice shaky and disbelieving. His body shimmered pale blue and her hand trembled as she reached for him. Her fingers skated over his form before it dissolved. She whimpered and choked out a sob.

“Rey.” The whisper skated along her cheeks and she cried. The Force curled around her, his breathing in time with hers, and she clumsily threw herself headfirst into it. He was there. His presence, warm and radiant, flowed through her and she clung to him. 

Ben watched her as he slowly pulled himself together in the Force. Her back straining as she moved the vats full of water onto the skid to take to Mos Eisley for credits. The way she scrubbed at her hands at the sink, the snort as she was offered blue milk. She tore her arm fixing the speeder. As she reached for a bandage to stop the bleeding he nudged a tendril of the Force toward her and her eyes searched for him as the blood flow slowed to a dribble. 

He would lay next to her in bed, watching her scratch each line into the wall, and listening to her breathe at night. When she allowed herself to slip into the Force, he felt her more solidly. He could touch her. His hands traveled over her aching muscles, soothing them, wishing he could ease their pain fully. He haunted her as she moved throughout the day, commenting on her fix for the nearly broken compressor in the Xwing. She shook her head and smiled, grease smeared on her nose. He longed to wipe it away, his hand passing through her. She sighed. 

She took a shower and he couldn’t feel the water on the skin or the smell of her shampoo. She was always cursory, rapid, rarely taking the time to cherish her own body. Sometimes, at night, she would talk to him about her time on Jakku. About combating a sandworm. About constructing a ship to escape only to have it cruelly ripped from her. The water would sluice down her breasts and Ben would lift his eyes. It felt improper. He was filled with want. He thought it would fade with his death 

He leaned against the shower wall and heard her panting, her whines pitched high, her name as she shuddered against the wall. He closed his eyes--if they could properly be called eyes. He knew her fingers would be gliding between her legs. That nails would dig into the tile and her desire rolled through him like a wave pummeling the shore.

He touched her arm as she moved through the forms--an adjustment here and there. He suggested a spice to improve the bland meals she often cooked.

“You’re full of opinions,” she told the empty air one night. 

“As if you don’t delight in them,” he reminded her and he thought about Chandrilan wine and how if he kissed her, would her summer taste explode with the flowery wine. 

“Sometimes I do,” she said as she stripped so casually in front of him. He did not look away. A blush stained her cheeks. “But your voice...it sustains me, Ben.” She reached out, blindly, and he took her hand, the callouses hard for one moment on his. 

The more they spoke, the stronger his presence grew. He could feel the gravity of the planet calling him. Perhaps it was her gravity. Perhaps she was always the sun he was destined to orbit. She leaned against the shower, lean and dusty, cursing as the water chugged through the ancient pipes. He kicked the wall and winced as a shock ran up his toe. 

“Why here?” he asked her as the water began to trickle out. 

“Why not?” she shot back, lathering up. He watched her work the soap under her arms and below her breasts, rosy tipped and waiting to be plucked. He had once seen a woman’s breasts at a celebration on Pasilcher, a First Order planet. She had twirled on the floor, clad in gauzy scarves. He was merely sixteen, fresh from the temple. She had writhed and wiggled and he had understood lust fully in that moment as it rolled through the crowd. None of it was his. 

But it was nothing like this. This need that drove him to his knees in front of her. A golden sharp warmth that gave shape to him. Rey gazed down, her mouth dropping in surprise as his hands floated down her. She gasped and he could feel the blood thrumming beneath her skin, the heaviness of her muscles, the downy feel of nubile flesh. 

She was heat and tough and grace and he placed a kiss on her hip. Her fingers carded through his hair and his eyes squeezed shut. Rey's breath hitched as he stroked her thighs. The Force flowed through him, into her, circling and binding, their edges blurring until there was only the crest and crash of their blood in their veins, the Force itself bending as Ben clawed through it to her. 

It snapped shut, throwing him across the room. He passed through the walls. She screamed. 

He was insubstantial again and she reached for him. He could barely order his atoms to remain arranged. 

Dawn found her perched on the bed, arms wrapped around her knees, as Ben faded in and out. 

“Dathomir,” he managed to fling at her before his atoms scatter and it is with all of his might that he can stay in the aether around her. 

* * *

Rey marched to the X wing, firing it up. BB8 trilled in pleasure as it took to the skies. Ben hung around her, comforting, a cloak, a barrier against the harshness that abraded her. She had felt his hands on her thighs, his kiss a searing tattoo on her hip that haunted her. She had become used to waking up next to him, his form solid, his warmth easing her into the morning. To wake up to a cold spot had sent all hope spiraling away from her.

Dathomir. A red blot of a planet in the dark velvet of space. Rey stared at the planet and surrendered herself to the Force. She didn’t know where to go. She didn’t know where to be. Ben’s helplessness clung to her like burrs and she cherished them as his presence grew thinner around her. 

“Don’t leave me,” she whispered. A strand of hair was tucked behind her ear and she sighed as he pressed against her. The ship cut through the atmosphere, clouds wisping around it as it landed on the edge of the swamp. Rey let go of the controls and opened her eyes. Her palms were sweaty and she sighed. 

“Is this impossible?” she asked the air. There was no answer, only a wave of hope. Rey opened the canopy and stepped out, heavy air on her skin, beading sweat along her brow. She climbed out and opened her senses. A knot of the Force ahead of her a few kilometres ahead. The witches, she thought.. BB8 beeped worriedly at her as she began the trek. Footsteps sank into the mud next to her own and her hand reached out, sure of his fingers threading through hers. 

The ground squelched beneath her feet, fog obscuring most of her vision. BB8 rolled behind her, buzzing mournfully. Rey felt a tug on her hand and she stopped. She squinted into the fog until it parted and three women on rancors plodded toward her. They were red, as red as the dirt behind him. Rey swallowed.

“Rey Palpatine,” the leader greeted. “And Ben Solo. We have been waiting for you.” Hope took flight in her chest as they beckoned her to follow. 

“Trust in the Force,” he murmured in her ear and she opened herself up to it. He glimmered next to her, more solid than he had been since last night but nowhere near as fully physically present. This planet breathed with the Force, draped with it, each flower unfurling with it. She was overwhelmed with sensation.

“You should seal some of yourself off from it, if you can,” the lead witch called. “Dathomir can drive a Jedi mad.” The other two witches cackled and Rey’s shoulders hunched. They left the swamp and began a trek up the hills, Rey’s breath scratching in her throat as the rancors easily made their way up. Growing impatient with the task, Rey gathered the Force around her and leapt, easily somersaulting over them until she landed on the ledge. 

“Show off,” Ben muttered and she laughed. The witches exchanged amused glances as they lead them into the village. The chatter in the village fell silent. Women stepped out of their homes to watch them, a quiet parade. She felt uneasy along her skin as they approached the largest hut. The door opened and out stepped a regal woman with pale skin and harsh eyes. 

“Rey and Ben,” she purred. 

“Mother Kycina,” Ben said and Mother Kycina nodded once, her eyes over Rey’s shoulder. As if she could see him. Rey turned and only the faintest of outlines shimmered in the air. 

“The Force shook with the events of Exegol,” Kycina continued. “We have been waiting for you.”

“Waiting for me?” Rey blanched, her hand creeping toward her lightsaber. Mother Kycina smiled, around her mouth tightening. 

“We have seen a dyad only once before,” Mother Kycina explained. “A long time ago. He can never be apart from you and you cannot from him. Your heart is not free to give to another. Unless you want it to be. We can sever you from him.”

Rey recoiled and Ben’s fierceness surged through her. The lightsaber was up and in her hand, the blade humming loudly. Mother Kycina chuckled.

“I thought not. There is a way, a way to harness the Force, to bring Ben back into this world, Rey. But I warn you, there are consequences.”

“Consequences?” Kycina nodded gravely. Rey’s sweaty hands nearly slipped on the hilt. Her fingers tightened. “What kind of consequences?”

“We do not know. There is much we suspect. Perhaps it will dampen your ability with the Force. Perhaps it will change the shape of the future. But you must decide, Rey, how much you want this. You too Ben. Pushing through the veil, as you tried, can be punishing.” 

Rey licked her lips. Ben trembled beside her. She thought of the scratches in the wall. The lonely nights reaching for him, only to feel the impression on the sheets. The silence as she ate dinner alone, his voice merely in her mind. The odd ache in her side. 

“Yes,” she said, unsure of what she meant. Mother Kycina held out her hand. 

“Then come my child. We have prepared for the ceremony.” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey begins the journey to bring Ben out of the darkness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Life is a dream. ‘Tis waking that kills us.” Virginia Woolf

The sun dipped below the hazy horizon, painting the sky a rich plum, with grey wisps of clouds sinewing between the jagged teeth of mountains. Mother Kycina guided Rey up a winding path, feet sending pebbles skittering down the sides, leaning heavily on her cane as the path sloped steeply. Rey cupped her elbow and the pale face beamed up at her. A breeze ruffled her hair, carrying with it the smokey crisp smell of meat on fire and her stomach growled and she clenched her teeth together. She had become too used to the frequency of food. 

“It is good that you have not eaten,” Mother Kycina huffed as they reached the entrance to a cave. “The less tied you are to this plane, the better.” Puzzling over that, Rey’s eyebrows lifted when they entered the cave. It was warm, golden light pooling around pillar candles as thick as her wrist, on the floor, on the ledges. Candles floated in the air, illuminating the wavy arches and deep red and white patterns on the wall. There were drawings, almost faded, waist high that told a tale of a ship crashing, of struggles, of the Force binding them all together. 

“We are older than the Jedi,” Mother Kycina said. “We’ve always been here, before those mystical monks. Our understanding is deeper, more fluid.”

“But the Jedi are an ancient order.” Mother Kycina lifted an eyebrow at Rey’s protest. 

“Then imagine how much older and how much further our lore extends,” she suggested before gesturing toward a set of stairs curving around a stalagmite, descending into a soft darkness. “We first must prepare you. Tell me, Rey, are you with child?” Rey gasped and Kycina chuckled.

“I was unsure of what you and the dyad had...done together in the Force. The ripples of your seduction have been quite enjoyable.” She laughed again, Rey’s ears tipping red. She could feel Ben’s discomfort behind her. “Ben must stay here. He cannot be with you at this part. He has his own preparations.”

“Can you...do that when he’s not here?”

“What we will do tonight is align two planes of existence. It will be difficult. It will send shockwaves throughout the Force. But it is bleeding. His death has created a hole around which darkness gathers. We must stitch it together.” She gestured again. “Go. Prepare yourself.” 

Rey felt Ben’s hand slide into hers, giving a slight squeeze. He ghosted her jaw, the Force a hot press against her skin. Mother Kycina gave a girlish giggle before sighing. 

“Young love,” she mused as she stumped away, calling for someone. Witches melted out of the shadows, one sidling up to Rey. She gestured toward the stairs again and Rey nodded, descending into the darkness. Candles here were few and far between, the drawings growing denser and more alive. She could feel life force radiating off of them and Rey swore she almost saw them move. Shaking her head at the flitting shadows, she arrived at the bottom of the stairs to a large pool, steam rising off the glowing blue. 

“It’s a mineral bath, that’s all,” the witch behind her said reassuringly. “You must drop the world as it is here. Leave it behind. Allow the water to hold you, to become one with you.” Rey stared at her and the witch gave a crooked smile as if understanding how cryptic it all sounded. Rey shrugged, laying down her lightsaber and stripping rapidly. She had heard plenty of vague statements from Luke. 

The water was warm and heavy somehow, cupping around her. She peered at it, realizing lights were sparking within and glanced up to see the night sky rippling with stars. She sank in up to her neck, the water pressing at her knees, lifting her up until she was floating, covered in a luminous blue, waves sploshing as she fell back. 

She closed her eyes, sinking into the flow of the water, sensing rather than seeing the walls of the cave grow translucent. Images flashed rapidly so that she could not catch them, only keen at the raw pain of a descent into madness, a love pushing into possession, bursts of blue and green and red flowing through her. A scream that echoed across the ages, nebulae birthing planets and stars. The pool itself seemed to mutate, suddenly surrounded by slender trees, green leaves unfurling, a smell like grass, but richer and more confusing. 

And there, there in the battles she felt through the walls, an unspooling thread of scarlet, wrapped around her wrist, frayed. She ran her fingers along her, something delicious skittering up her spine. A sense of the familiar. The known. Ben’s kiss on her hip burned. 

A gong sounded and Rey plunged through the water, swallowing, spluttering as she rose from its depths. The young witch stood tentatively on the shore, palm out. 

“You’re not supposed to drink it,” she said bemusedly and Rey snorted. She clawed her way back to the steps, toes curling into the rough stone, as she climbed out. The witch handed her a cream chemise that clung to her, almost translucent from the water. She beckoned her upstairs and Rey rubbed her wrist, the string abrading her flesh. 

Witches surrounded a circle, Mother Kycina a wraith on the edges. She gestured for Rey to step into the circle and Rey blanched. Etched into the dirt, white shells lined, obsidian rocks gleaming, was the Prime Jedi. 

“One must become two again,” Mother Kycina murmured as she gave Rey a gentle shove forward. She instructed Rey to spread out on the ground, between the shells that sketched out her form. Rey could see the air shimmering next to, a wave of pine sharp in her nose, a tendril of longing pressed against her collarbone. She could almost see a red thread glimmer on her arm. 

“What happened in the baths?” Mother Kycina asked. 

“I felt as if I were floating in starlight,” Rey confessed, feeling silly as she did. But Mother Kycina smiled proudly as if that were important. As if she were proud. Rey’s uncertainty began to ease.

“We have created a crossroads here tonight. Yesterday has vanished already and tomorrow has not emerged. You must seek the intermediate space, the one between dream and wakefulness. You must travel into yourself. There you will find Ben waiting for you.”

“But what do I do once I find him?” Rey found her fright surging to the front again. She could feel her body as if it were something separate from her, her own heartbeat foreign and insistent, an ancient tattoo that strained to join a song from the stars. 

Kyinca stroked her cheek. “You must bring him home. It is your and your intention alone. The Force must align. That relies on you. But Rey,” she paused and licked her lips. “You must never look back. If the Force tries to claim Ben permanently, if you look back...it will claim you too.” 

Rey inhaled shakily. “And you, what will you do?”

“We will be your tether to this plane. Keep your ears open, hear your sisters.” She patted Rey’s cheek, her eyes crinkling with something like tenderness, before rising and stepping out the circle, chanting in a language that Rey did not understand. But her stomach clenched, her cells tingled, and a part of her recognized an entreaty to the Force. She felt something warm slide into her fingers and she looked over, eyes roving over the empty space that was Ben.

“Rey. You don’t have to do this. I can...I can try to manifest in the Living Force,” Ben offered. Rey shook her head and she could see the air rippling as he smiled. “Then remember my love. And that hope lives in the willingness to work for something because it is good, not just because it has a chance to succeed.” A pressure along her hand, squeezing, and something swelled in her chest. The ache in her side stung, sea salt in a wound, a broken limb flailing, heat sweeping through her at a breakneck pace. She hiccuped, words like ash on her tongue, as the singing around them reached a fevered pitch.

“Go into the Force, Rey!” Mother Kycina called. “You know what to do.” Squeezing her eyes shut, Rey fumbled for the string along her wrist, fings brushing worn silk. And she allowed her consciousness to follow it, the silk snapping and waving in the skies as it became a path that she began to walk.

“I am one with the Force and the Force is with me,” she murmured as she took her first step onto the winding road. The chanting became a distant sound, almost muted by the whisper of starlight along her skin, her blood a hum and a lullaby. She saw a tree, roots deep in the ground, a strata of cultures and civilizations, and a sense of being called. She continued walking, her feet slapping against the red road. Up ahead, something flickered, lean and bright. 

“Truly wonderful the mind of a child is,” a voice called and Rey raced toward it. The light continued to shine. 

A conduit through which the entire Force flows, another said and Rey shivered at the echo. It was so daminingly familiar, so haunting, and images of the Sith temple rose in her mind. 

“No Rey! Never here!” Mother Kycina shouted from across the distance, her voice dim and nearly lost in the sound of Rey’s heart. Rey froze, eyes slamming shut, pushing out every horror. She plunged into her memory: the sound of Ben’s laugh, the brief flash of his smile, the tender way he cupped her face, his thumb trailing along her jaw. She shivered and found the path way growing thicker and more insistent beneath her feet. Her wrist dragged her forward and she followed it until she rounded a corner and confronted a gate. 

A slim column of a woman, sandy, worn by the grit driving at her, stood in front of an arched doorway. The road beyond it flickered in the dark. Rey skidded to a halt, surprised to find her chest heaving as if she had run a great distance. Her fingers curled into fists, wishing she had a weapon with her, as wariness settled around her. The woman gave a slight smile, as if recognizing her. 

“I too know that weight,” she said, whiskey soft, her vowels rounded, hard edges smoothed by the sand itself. She held out her hand. “I am Shmi Skywalker, Rey of Jakku.” At Rey’s frown, she continued: “Ben’s great grandmother.” 

“What...what do you want from me?” Rey demanded, the wound in her ribs pushing her forward, begging her to keep her feet in motion. It was flame in her side and her hand traveled to it, pressing it, biting back a wince. The road wavered under her feet. 

“I am come to give you my blessing and my strength. You will need all you can get. The road ahead will demand much of you.” She took Rey’s hand in her own and it was a familiar rush of power, Rey’s breath hitched, her cells flourish, unfurling toward a sun. Rey sighed. Shmi smiled and stepped to the side, pointing toward the path. 

“Don’t look back, Rey. And don’t let go,” Shmi reminded her, drawing Rey close and placing a soft kiss on her forehead. Rey shivered as something maternal and unknown flowed down through her, her own self humming, in tune with some melody she could no longer hear. In the distance, the chanting grew behind her, urging her forward, her feet twitching. Shmi pushed Rey gently and, drawing her strength like a cloak around her, Rey plunged into the darkness. 

* * *

In his own blackness, Ben Solo studied the tomb like room in which he found himself. His chest burned, each breath a punishment, as if heaving against a weight that threatened to bore into him. The only light was from a glimmer of red around his wrist. He instinctively understood what it was, his hand resting on his chest, his body aware of his lack of heartbeat. He peered at his wrist, squinting to follow the thread. Each footstep was halting, shambling along a corpse road. If he had a heart, it would be railing against his ribcage, fear the only thing propelling him forward. He dared not hope. It was too fragile and fickle a thing, no matter what he had told Rey. 

He squeezed through the narrow walls of the cavern and swore as his toes collided into something. Steps. Ben shivered. The scarlet ribbon grew brighter, twinkling, threading upward. He hesitantly moved upward, his feet trying to anchor themselves, chains trying to loop around his ankles and pull him, yank him back. He would not be damned by this, he reminded himself, fixing an image of Rey in his mind. Her golden skin dewy with sweat, her eyes beaming as she coaxed a reluctant machine into working. The crinkle around her eyes, the smidge of dimple near her mouth that he had been graced to feel for a half of a second. 

It could have been hours that he trudged up the winding stairs. It could have been minutes, years--time had no meaning in this room, only the bracing scrabble, the gravity behind him only coaxing him back, back to where he belonged. He heard a faint song and he hunched forward, each step a labor, the walls growing closer, until only his head was able to poke through until he shimmied his shoulders between the pinching stone, tumbling to the floor. 

Ben took a deep, cleansing breath. He was aware of aching knees and shivering calves, sweat drenching his brow. He was in a large room, symbols he vaguely recognized in another life sketched on the floor in vermilion. A door opened and a man floated in, skeletal and fish belly white, his eyes a crimson phosphorescence. 

“Benjamin Solo,” he seethed. Ben frowned. The face, so familiar, haunted the edges of his memory. 

“Who are you?” Ben asked cautiously. 

“I am the fate you had, the fate you seek. And I shall not lose you again,” he said. 

“Nice to meet you, Fate,” Ben mocked. “I’m assuming that’s a name I can call you?” The man’s lip curled, dagger edged teeth glinting in the malicious glow from the floor. 

“No. I am the Son.” 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to Josskuhh, an amazing beta! She really helped fix this up. Any other errors are totally my own.

Ben frowned at the skeleton man, his mind clicked and whirred. The name sounded familiar. Something from the Temple, a vision, a drawing, rose in his mind. 

“What do you want?” he lifted his chin. Simple. Direct. Clear. Completely different from what his mother told him to open negotiations with when he was a child. No wonder he was designed to fail as Supreme Leader. And, to be completely honest, he hated Hux and dealing with him everyday was more trouble than it was worth. 

The Son cracked a smile, fanged teeth gleaming in the reddish light. 

“You are attempting to move between planes, Ben Solo. There’s a price for that.” 

“My soul is here and my body is gone. I don’t know what kind of price you expect I can pay.”

The Son gave a cackle and lifted his hand, the sky parted before them. He wiggled his fingers, an almost showman like gesture, and a vision began to fill. A scarlet road, the same vibrant pulsing color as the thread around his wrist. Stars glittering in the midnight blue. And Rey, his beloved Rey slogging along, her cheeks pink from exertion, sweat beading along her brow, the chemise clinging to her hips in ways that sent a hitch in Ben’s breathing. 

“I don’t bargain with people,” Ben turned his face toward the Son. Hardening his features, his eyes going flat in the ways in which a life under Snoke’s threat taught him. 

“She’s not the chit, she’s the stick,” the Son purred. “I don’t relish being stuck in this world. I need to hitch a ride to get back.”

“And you propose I carry you. “

“Hmmm,” the Son nodded. “It’s not as if you’re unfamiliar with this idea.” Palpatine’s fishbelly white face and scarred flesh flashed in Ben’s memory. His yellow teeth and slow moving lips demanding Rey’s allegiance filled him with horror. He shuddered. It was still too raw, his back aching from the collision in the pit, his shoulder burning from the leap. His soul was scarred from his sacrifice in ways he couldn’t fathom. He had been so intent on finding Rey, being with her, on the stab under his ribs as he inhaled. His hand drifted to his ribs and he laid it on there, warmth pulsing through, he could feel her. 

It’s a lie, he thought. By taking me, he can take her. 

Frowning, Ben closed his eyes and he reached out with his feelings. The Force was everywhere. Even here. It was the odd lilt in the chant of the witches growing louder in his ears. It was the bindings that kept his atoms together. It was the path weaving before Rey. It was in the blood pulsing in her veins, the beat of the heart in her chest, the ghostly echo of the same beat behind his ribs. 

His eyes flew open and he held out his hand, a staff gripped tightly. The Son grinned. 

“I see your uncle’s training did not fail you,” he murmured, pleased as a thin silver staff grew between his fingers, the Force coalescing into a tool for him. 

“I remember who you are now,” Ben snapped. The Son gave a mocking half-bow . 

“And I remember any spawn of Anakin Skywalker,” he snarled as he swung the staff out. Ben blocked it, sliding his staff along the Son’s before chucking it up. The Son leapt back, the blunt edge missing his jaw. He jabbed forward and Ben slid sideways, whipping his staff down. They connected with a loud thwack. They parried blows for a few moments, the clacking of their staff ringing along the sloped cave walls. Even though he had no corporeal body, Ben could feel his muscles aching, his breath tight in his chest, sweat dripping down the side of his face. His eyes darted around the room, memorizing the layout. The Son was skilled, jumping back and twirling it in his hand before running forward to slice Ben’s legs. 

Ben’s retreat was slow as the staff smacked his shin. Hissing in pain he shoved his staff into the Son’s chest. He jabbed upward. The Son’s neck made a squelching sound, surprising them both, as he stumbled back, hand going to his throat. Ben hobbled backwards, glaring at the Son. 

The Son stood up and began to laugh, a grating rough sound. 

“Always striking out in anger. Yessssss,” he gloated. “Feed me, Ben Solo.” Indeed, he seemed taller, stronger, and his eyes brighter. Ben inhaled sharply, realization a heavy punch to the gut. 

“Always so easy to rile up a Skywalker. Quick to anger. Quick to revenge.” The Son paced around the room as Ben struggled to get his raging emotions under control. “When Rey comes here, I shall have all I need.” Ben screwed his eyes shut, fingers fumbling for the red thread on his wrist. It glimmered in the dim recesses of the room. He sent his conscience along it, the pain digging claws into his flesh, hollowing him out, and he clung to her form pacing along the path.

Rey froze. 

“Ben?” she asked. A familiar weight settled on her waist. Her hand went to the spot on her hip automatically, almost feeling his hand there. 

“I’m coming for you,” she swore and she continued her slog upward. The path pitched itself even higher as the chanting grew more insistent. She could feel it as a string wrapped around her waist, grounding her. She could almost feel the dirt and the shells from the ground leaving impressions on her body. 

Rey saw a figure shimmering up ahead and put on an extra burst of speed before skidding to a halt. The woman raised her face and drew back a violet silk hood. She was shorter than Rey, her dark brown eyes sharp and bright, with her hair in intricate buns.

“Who are you?” Rey almost wheezed, clutching her side, feeling for Ben. The woman’s gaze flickered down to Rey’s movement before smiling. 

“I am Ben’s grandmother. Padme Amidala.”

“Ah,” Rey said, brow crinkling as the name niggled the back of her brain, something familiar from an old data card she had found in a junked Naboo spaceship in Jakku. She licked her lips and studied the woman, drawing her shoulders back. 

“I see you are reaching for Ben. That’s all you need to do Rey. Hang on. Hold him tight. Cherish him.” Rey blinked, waiting for more but Padme only reached out to give her arm a small, encouraging squeeze. “The galaxy tries to make everything out to be complicated. And in some ways, it is. But right now, your focus needs to bring balance. And that comes with holding on.”

“How will that align the cosmic and the living Force?” Rey asked, feeling stupid. Padme smiled and gave an artful shrug. Rey stared. She had never seen anyone shrug with so much grace. She wondered if it was a learned trait. 

“That’s a question for the Jedi. I am not one of them. But I do know this,” Padme paused and tightly pressed her lips together. “Nothing comes for free. There will be a price. And before you ask--no. I don’t know what it is.” Rey hesitated, her resolve weakening. Price? What price could she pay that she hadn’t paid before? When she felt Ben’s life slipping away from her, his kiss still hot on her lips? The thud his body made as it crashed to the floor before dissolving, the ghostly caress of his atoms as the Force took him from her? How much more?

Anger surged through her as she grit her teeth, grasping for some semblance of balance. Padme pulled Rey in for a hug. 

“You have my love. And you always will. You and Ben, both.” She stepped back and smiled up at Rey, before giving her a gentle nudge forward. “You cannot stop now. Too much depends on it.” Rey sniffed, the tears threatening to spill, as her anger burned away in the face of Padme’s serenity and resolve. She nodded her thanks and continued forward, her feet dragging, refusing to pick up their pace. 

“Rey.” Ben’s ghostly plea pulled at her and her heart quickened. She spurred herself onward, refusing to slow, thighs burning as the road turned sharply upward. The stars glittered around her, a nebula vivid at her feet through the red sheen of the road. It was a sheer climb. Rey lept upward, grabbing at the suddenly craggy road in front of her. The ribbon around her wrist began to pulse in time with her heartbeat as she inched her way up, fingers digging for a grip, feet scrabbling for toeholds. 

Rey knew how to be patient, her arms and legs comfortable with the moves, her gaze roving over the cliff face, hunting each handhold. The pulsing at her wrist continued insistently, urging her forward, and the pain in her side grew sharper. She could no longer feel the shape of Ben’s hand on her waist, his kiss left a wisp of a memory. The chanting had mutated, a sweet melody, upbeat, encouraging her to keep on her quest. After what felt like climbing for eons, hand over hand, foot over foot, repetitive, familiar, Rey’s hand searched for purchase at the top to help haul her over the lip.

A hand grabbed hers and she looked up to see Leia. Rey’s chin trembled as she whispered her mentor’s name.

“Come on, get up here,” Leia ordered, as she pulled up, Rey pushed with her feet to flop like a fish on the ledge. The road flattened out here before disappearing. Rey frowned as she rose to her feet, dusting off her trousers as was habit, despite a lack of dust. 

“Took you a bit longer to arrive than I would have thought,” Leia said dryly. She was different from the last time Rey saw her at the Resistance base. She thought she saw Leia once before but Luke was the only Force Ghost she knew. She threw herself at Leia, nearly crushing her.

“Quick,no time for this, Ben needs our help,” Leia briskly said. “They know exactly how to play him.” She grabbed Rey’s arms and gripped them tightly. “Rey, Rey. Do you promise to hang on no matter what?” 

Rey gasped. What kind of question was this? What trials lay ahead? 

“Ben is a part of me,” she replied slowly. “I won’t give him up. He never gave up on me.”

The skin around Leia’s eyes crinkled as she smiled broadly. She sniffed as if holding back tears.

“That’s my girl. You’re my only hope, Rey Solo. Hang on, my dear.” Rey opened her mouth to protest a new last name but was never able to get out the words. Leia pushed her down, a steep sloping slide that sent her tumbling down at a breakneck speed. Rey let out a yelp as the ground dipped and curved, her fingers digging into the diaphanous material. The path drove forward, up toward the sky, Rey flung into the air, screaming, as she crashed into the road again and it dipped into a cave, depositing her onto a glowing circle. 

She leaped to her feet, lungs tight, calves screaming, taking in the scene in front of her. A skeletal man with glowing yellow eyes stared at her, he held a deadly looking silver staff in his hand. Behind him was Ben his face slack and full of revulsion. Her Ben. His sweater hung off his frame and the bruises still marred his face. She longed to kiss each one away. 

“You cannot have him!” The strange man snarled, charging at her, his staff held high. Rey dropped to a squat, leg sweeping out, she sent the man sprawling. Without thinking, she jumped onto him, wrestling him to the ground. 

_ Remember your training, Rey. Trust your instincts,  _ Leia called. Rey reached for the staff but the pale man bucked underneath her, spindly arm reaching back to scratch at her eyes. Rey shrieked and slammed her fist into his neck. He anticipated her move, drawing his shoulders up, and pitching her to the side. 

“There is a misunderstanding,” he purred. “We don’t have to be enemies.” Rey glared at him, jaw falling open at the audacity.

“Still trying that same line after all this time,” a voice mocked. Rey looked up to see a tall man with shaggy brown hair and a familiar scar on the right side of his face. He wore the brown robes of a Jedi. Judging by the way Ben’s eyes widened, he could only be Darth Vader, but he didn’t seem like a man who could send terror in waves throughout the galaxy.

The pale man shoved her to the side and rose to his feet, the staff spinning in his hand. 

“Didn’t enjoy killing me once, Skywalker?” he sneered. Rey scooted to the side before sprinting along the cave walls, avoiding the staredown between the two men, she slid next to Ben. As soon as her skin touched his, her hand intertwined in his, a roll of power blasted the room, purple light bursting off of them. Rey cried out. Ben’s hand tightened around hers, her arms latching onto his shoulders and he pulled her to him. Her side flared with pain, the ache of bones mending. She could almost feel a needle passing through her flash and from Ben’s twisted grimace, he did as well.

“Ben,” she whispered, curling into him. The moment held, their red band pulsed faster, and his hot breath skated across her face. 

She almost couldn’t believe it was real.

Mother Kycina called across the stars to her: “Don’t surrender, Rey! Bring him home!” She wound her arms around his chest as she bound herself to him. 

“I’ll never let you go,” she vowed. Ben’s lip trembled, eyes wide, palm hot on her face, his gaze roving over every inch of her face. Disbelief was writ large on his features and she smiled as she tightly gripped his sweater. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


“There? Do you see it? The power they hold?” the other man snarled. Darth Vader smiled, a snarky lift at the corner of his mouth, both mocking and teasing. It was an intoxicating smile, one that she had seen on Ben’s face, once. 

“That is the Son of Mortis,” Ben whispered. “And that is my grandfather.” She could see the Adam’s apple in his throat bobble and she leaned into him. How to get past those two?

“He just wants to hitch a ride out of here with you two,” Darth Vader called over his shoulder. “He tried it once with me.”

“And how did you survive, grandfather?” Ben asked as he and Rey stood up, arms wrapped tightly around one another. Darth Vader craned his neck to face them, throwing them a bold wink.

“The same you are going to,” he replied gamely. “And the name’s Anakin, Rey.” She blinked once before shrugging it her curiosity. The Force moved in unexpected ways, it seemed. Even now. She nodded over at Ben and they began to creep along the wall. As she took a step forward, she felt a vice like grip grab at her waist it tried to drag her away. Grunting, she clung onto Ben.

“If I can’t have him, I’ll have her,” the Son hissed. “I won’t let you stop me again, Skywalker.” Ben wrapped his arms around her, and she felt his muscles shift as he tightened his grip around her. 

“Don’t let go!” she screamed as the Force enveloped her. Ben’s eyes widened as Anakin pulled out a lightsaber and ran toward the Son. The staff shimmered it grew into a bright red light, meeting Anakin’s with a clash. His grip on Rey slackened and she tumbled into Ben. 

“We have to get out of here!”

“We can’t let my grandfather fight him alone! If he gets out--” Ben trailed off as Rey shook her head. 

“He can’t hitch a ride on your grandfather. He can with us. If we try to go help Anakin, the Son can come with us. Or he may separate us.” She twisted in his grip and cradled his face in her hands. In the background, the swish and buzz of lightsabers clashing nearly drowned out the chanting, slowly increasing in tempo. 

“I won’t lose you again, Ben Solo.” He smiled softly, the skin around his eyes crinkling. So much like his mother, she thought, running a finger down his cheek, marveling at the stubble abrading her flesh. She stole a glance at Anakin battling the Son, their movements so rapid she could barely make out who was who. She turned back to Ben who darted forward, to press his lips against hers, thumb circling the back of her neck.

Rey had read about women melting in men’s arms before. Rose had shared a few steamy romances while at the Resistance. They had described dashing men and courageous women. The kisses had ignited such a longing in her that she had sometimes kissed the back of her hand and longed for something she could not name. She would read the passages over and over again, just to understand how one kiss could stoke a fire in someone’s soul.

Ben’s kiss blew every single thing she thought she knew out of her mind. He poured his joy, his pleasure into her and she shivered at his touch. It was the relief she felt when rain finally poured into the Jakku desert. The delight that trilled through her when an engine whirred back to life. It was the breath of life that glanced across the desert and coaxed blooms from stubborn cacti. 

A tear slid down her cheek,he frowned, catching it with the pad of his thumb.

“Don’t cry,” he pleaded. She shook her head. 

“Happy tears, I promise,” she murmured. . They were floating, their red ribbons twined around them and pushing at the soles of their feet. She turned to look at Anakin. The Son was attempting to hack at it, snarling as his blade passed through ineffectively.

“You cannot fight love,” Anakin taunted. “I know you remember that.” The Son froze and a wheeze escaped his throat. He whirled around and pointed his lightsaber at Anakin. 

“Love? From someone who betrayed me? Who was more focused on the balance of the Force than his children’s own happiness?” he growled. “From a man who denied me everything and held me so that you could murder me?” Pain tore through every word that he spewed and Rey wrapped her arms around Ben, horrified at his story. Ben’s breathing grew heavier. Rey could feel the sympathy spooling off of him. It was a story all too familiar. As if sensing their unease, Anakin glanced up.

“I know. And I’m sorry. I would be there for you, always, if I could.” 

“And why couldn’t you?” Ben’s voice trembled and cracked. Rey pressed against him, head tucked under her chin, as if she could shove herself inside of him so he could never feel loneliness or heartbreak again. Guilt sat heavy Anakin’s brow. Rey sobbed. Heartache folded around them, the ribbon easing them to the ground where they crumpled on the floor.

“Confronting fear is the true duty of the Jedi,” Anakin said simply. “I fail at it. It makes it difficult to manifest in the Living Force. I...I am sorry, Ben. I longed to be able to reach you.” His features pinched together and his hand wavered as he reached toward them. The Son let out piercing keening sound. 

A strange group of survivors, Rey thought. So much pain ripping them apart. She stood up, fingers threading through Ben’s, and tugged him toward Anakin.  _ Luminous beings are we, not this crude matter,  _ echoed throughout the chamber.  _ The Force surrounds us, it binds us, _ added another voice. Hauntingly familiar, as if from a dream. Anakin visibly flinched at the last words.  _ For my ally is the Force, and a powerful ally it is.  _ She took the Son’s hand and pulled him with her, grabbing Anakin’s hand and placing it on Ben’s. 

_ Never let go.  _

_ Give them my love.  _

_ What is your strength, Rey? _ In her mind, Leia cocked her head. 

“I am stubborn and patient,” Rey muttered under her breath as she stared at all three men. Ben sidled closer to her, still gazing at Anakin in awe, even as their hands clasped together. 

_ Train yourself to let go of everything you fear.  _ So much pain and misunderstanding. Her own screams as a child reverberated along her spine, the terror rising as her parents flew away. Her blood swam with the tears she shed. She knew Ben cried and his loneliness had shifted into rage. For Anakin too. She saw the despair in the lines around his eyes. Lastly the Son’s his inexorable need to find someone, anyone, to fix the raging wound in his heart. 

Rey instinctively understood what to do. She pulled them together, an oddly shaped group, and willed them to feel Shmi’s embrace, Padme’s squeeze of comfort, and Leia’s wry and easy affection. The Son’s eyes widening and Rey nodded at him. His chin fell to his chest as he sniffed once. The witches’ voices twined around them, a ribbon of sound, carrying with it the melody of life, of love and loss, of growth and rebirth. Rey swore the air shimmered a bright purple as the Son gazed skyward. 

“Mother. Sister,” he whispered before he faded away, his clothes dropping to the floor with a soft whoosh. Rey clung to Ben, her fingers creaking from how tightly they gripped him. Ben’s face whipped toward hers, scar dark against his pale face. Anakin’s image wavered in front of them and around him appeared Shmi and Padme. Ben gasped, his face filled with longing. 

“The Force will be with you. Even if you can’t feel it, it is with you. Always.” His face split into a warm smile that sent a wave of warmth and welcoming through Rey. The Force bond between Ben and her pulsed with contentment, all ragged edges smoothed away. She reached for Ben, ever mindful of Padme telling her to never let go, and dragged his face down to her. 

“So much pain,” he murmured and she nodded. 

“We’ve all been so alone. So much terror and fear,” she agreed. Ben’s lips brushed hers before deepening the kiss, arm wrapping around her waist to pull her flush against him. 

“You’re not alone anymore.”

“Neither are you.” 

The scarlet ribbon around their wrists enveloped them it lifted them into an explosion of red, purple and blue. Stars glittered like sand in the moonlight, growing brighter and more intense as their eyes slammed shut, curling into each other. The singing from the witches was a soft, crooning melody, fading away, until darkness claimed them. 

Rey woke up with a gasp. Her clothes were soaked with sweat and her thighs trembling as if she had run a marathon. There was a vice like grip on her hand and she looked down to see Ben Solo’s hand, his real, solid, physical hand in hers. Mother Kycina peered down at her.

“Congratulations. You both made it back.Took you long enough.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, to me, unlike to JJ, the original sin of this entire saga was separating the mothers and their children (fathers too). Taking Anakin away from his mom, the loss of the Daughter in Mortis and then the betrayal by the Father, so much pain. 
> 
> And yes, I listened to songs about Tam Lin while writing.

**Author's Note:**

> The Courtship of Princess Leia was the first "Legends" novel I read (except this was long ago) and the possibilities stuck with me. Kycina is from Legends.


End file.
